— What beautiful pots I brought you! Practical, convenient. Not like these… — Zhanna Olegovna ran her finger along the edge of the frying pan on the stove. — I don’t even understand what you cook in them, Katya.
Katya clenched her teeth and continued chopping vegetables for the salad. Her mother-in-law’s third visit that week. Without warning. Again with gifts no one had asked for.
“Mom, we already have good cookware,” Pasha tried to defend her, but his voice sounded uncertain.
“Good?” Zhanna Olegovna raised her eyebrows. “That is a beginner housewife’s set, not something for a married woman. Katya needs to learn how to cook properly, not make these fashionable little salads.”
Pasha gave his wife a guilty smile and looked away. Katya tightened her grip on the knife. One more minute of this conversation, and she would definitely say something she would regret later.
“Zhannochka, maybe you shouldn’t interfere?” Yuri Mironovich said quietly from where he stood by the window. “The young people have their own way of doing things.”
“What way of doing things, Yura?” Zhanna Olegovna threw up her hands. “Pasha comes home from work hungry. There’s no proper food ready. The apartment is in such a state…”
Katya glanced around the perfectly clean kitchen, which she had scrubbed before work, and felt a wave of indignation rise inside her.
“I don’t come home hungry,” Pasha tried to object. “We have a cafeteria at work…”
“A cafeteria!” his mother interrupted. “You should be eating homemade food! Katya, dear, I brought minced meat. Let me teach you how to make proper cutlets.”
That was the last straw.
“Zhanna Olegovna,” Katya put down the knife and turned to her mother-in-law, “thank you for your concern, but Pasha and I are managing perfectly well on our own.”
“But, darling, I only want to help! Pashenka has always loved my cutlets. And in general, I look at your life and see that you need support. Especially now, when you work so much. Yura, tell her!”
Yuri Mironovich coughed awkwardly.
“Zhannochka is right in some ways. Family is the most important thing. And work…”
“And work helps us pay the mortgage on this apartment,” Katya cut him off. “And we are grateful for your concern, truly. But we want to live independently.”
Zhanna Olegovna’s face twisted.
“Independently? And what about family traditions? Pasha, do you hear how she is speaking to your parents?”
Pasha darted between his wife and his mother like a frightened rabbit between two predators.
“Mom, Katya didn’t mean it that way… Katya, Mom really only wants what’s best.”
“I meant exactly that,” Katya said firmly. “I appreciate your concern, but we are adults, and we decide for ourselves how to live.”
“Adults?” Zhanna Olegovna demonstratively looked around the kitchen. “Adults don’t live like this! Pasha, are you really satisfied with this… this mess? This food? You deserve better!”
Katya felt herself flushing with hurt and anger.
“Pasha,” she looked at her husband, “do you want to say something?”
Pasha shifted his confused gaze from his wife to his mother and back again. Panic was written in his eyes.
“I think we all love each other and want what’s best.”
“Exactly!” Zhanna Olegovna seized on his words. “What’s best! That’s why I brought new pots. And minced meat. Katenka, let me show you how to cook properly.”
She moved decisively toward the refrigerator. Katya blocked her path.
“No, Zhanna Olegovna. Not now. I’ve had a difficult day, and I want to rest. Without cooking master classes.”
“But Pasha needs to eat properly!”
“Pasha eats properly. And anyway, this is our life.”
“Your life? And who are we? Strangers?” Zhanna Olegovna turned to her son. “Pasha, do you hear how she’s talking to us?”
A week later, the situation only got worse. Zhanna Olegovna began coming almost every day, sometimes with Yuri Mironovich, sometimes alone. She brought groceries, cooked food Katya didn’t like, and constantly criticized the young housewife.
On Friday, Katya came home from work late. An important project with premium clients was underway at the bank, and she had stayed late for a meeting. When she opened the apartment door, she heard lively voices coming from the kitchen. Her heart sank with a bad premonition.
In the kitchen she found the entire Ukolov family: Pasha, Zhanna Olegovna, and Yuri Mironovich. They were having dinner and, judging by their expressions, felt completely at home. There were unfamiliar plates on the table, and something was bubbling on the stove in a new pot.
“And here is our hard worker!” Zhanna Olegovna exclaimed. “Sit down, I’ll heat some food for you. Pasha has already eaten. I couldn’t allow my boy to go hungry.”
“Hello,” Katya said coldly. “Pash, can I speak to you for a minute?”
Her husband guiltily got up from the table.
“Where are you going?” Zhanna Olegovna protested. “You haven’t even finished eating!”
“I’ll be right back, Mom.”
In the bedroom, Katya closed the door and turned to her husband.
“Did you give them keys to our apartment?”
Pasha looked away.
“No, of course not! Mom just called and said she had cooked dinner, and I invited them…”
“Pasha, don’t lie to me. I was delayed at work. You couldn’t have known when I’d come home. How did they get into the apartment?”
Her husband sighed heavily.
“Fine. I gave them the spare keys. But only for emergencies!”
“Emergencies? Cooking dinner is an emergency?”
“Mom worries that I don’t eat well.”
“What, I don’t feed you?”
“You do, but…” Pasha hesitated.
“But what?”
“But Mom thinks it’s not enough. That you’re too absorbed in your career and don’t pay enough attention to the home.”
Katya felt anger rise in her throat.
“And you agree with her?”
“I don’t know, Katya. Maybe she’s right about some things? You really do work a lot…”
“Because we’re paying a mortgage! Have you forgotten?”
“No, but…”
There was a knock at the door. Without waiting for an answer, Zhanna Olegovna peered into the room.
“Children, what secrets are you keeping? Katya, your portion is getting cold.”
“Thank you, Zhanna Olegovna, but I’m not hungry.”
“What do you mean, not hungry? After work, you need to eat properly!”
“I’ll eat later,” Katya snapped.
“You see, Pasha?” Zhanna Olegovna shook her head. “She doesn’t even want to eat properly. I told you she doesn’t take care of her health. And then what? She won’t be able to have children because of all these diets?”
“Mom!” Pasha finally intervened. “Please stop.”
“What do you mean, stop? Stop telling the truth? Katya is too caught up in her career. At her age, it’s time to think about children, not working late. Isn’t that right, Yura?” She turned to her husband, who was awkwardly shifting in the doorway.
“Well, family really is more important than anything,” Yuri Mironovich muttered.
“There!” Zhanna Olegovna exclaimed triumphantly. “A wise man has spoken. And you, Pasha, should listen to your father.”
Katya felt that in another moment she would explode. She took a deep breath.
“Zhanna Olegovna, Yuri Mironovich, thank you for your concern, but I’m very tired right now and would like to rest. Alone with my husband.”
“You’re throwing us out?” her mother-in-law gasped.
“No, I’m simply asking you to respect our right to privacy.”
“Privacy? From parents?” Zhanna Olegovna threw up her hands. “Yura, do you hear that? She considers us strangers!”
“I didn’t say that…”
“Everything is clear! Pashenka, get ready, we’re leaving. Since your wife considers us a nuisance.”
“Mom, Katya didn’t mean that…”
“And what did she mean? That we’re in the way? That we’re unnecessary? After everything we do for you?”
The next day, Katya arrived at work with a headache. After Pasha’s parents had left, another scandal had broken out. Her husband accused her of disrespecting his parents, and she accused him of being unable to establish healthy boundaries with them.
“Katya, you don’t look well,” her boss, Alla Viktorovna, noticed. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, I just didn’t sleep well.”
“Are you sure? If you need to, you can take a day off.”
“No, no, I’ll manage. How is the premium clients project going?”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,” Alla Viktorovna lowered her voice. “Yesterday some woman called me. She introduced herself as your mother-in-law.”
Katya’s heart dropped.
“What did she want?”
“She asked whether you could be transferred to a less demanding position. She said something about preserving the family. Of course, I told her it was none of her business, but… are you all right, Katya?”
Katya felt her face flood with shame and anger.
“I’m sorry, Alla Viktorovna. It’s a misunderstanding. My mother-in-law and I have a few disagreements, but I’ll handle it. It won’t affect my work in any way.”
“I have no doubt about that. You’re an excellent specialist, and I’m counting on you. By the way, there’s some interesting news. A branch of our bank is opening in Nizhny Novgorod, and they need an experienced employee to work with premium clients. I recommended you. Think about it if you’re interested.”
All day, Katya couldn’t concentrate on work. Her thoughts kept returning to the conversation with her boss. Her mother-in-law had called her workplace! She was interfering not only in their family life now, but in her career too. And the offer to relocate… Was it a chance to start with a clean slate? But how would Pasha react?
That evening, Katya decided to meet her friend Olga. They had needed to talk for a long time.
“She called your work?” Olga shook her head. “That crosses every boundary.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Katya admitted. “Pasha doesn’t understand the problem. To him, it’s just his mother’s concern.”
“I think the problem goes deeper. Pasha never separated from his parents psychologically. He’s still their obedient little boy, not your husband.”
“And what should I do? Leave him?”
“Of course not. But you need to have a serious conversation. Maybe even show him the perspective: either you build your own family together, or he goes back to his mother.”
“I can’t make him choose like that.”
“But your mother-in-law can ruin your career?” Olga took her friend’s hand. “Listen, maybe you really should move? Change the environment, start fresh. Without his parents breathing down your neck.”
“I don’t know… Pasha probably won’t agree.”
“You won’t know unless you try.”
Katya came home late. Pasha was waiting for her, nervously pacing around the living room.
“Where were you?” he asked tensely.
“I met Olga. Why?”
“No reason. Mom called and wanted to come over.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“That you weren’t home.”
“Good,” Katya nodded. “Pash, we need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Your mother called my work. Or rather, not me, but my boss.”
Pasha froze.
“What?”
“She asked for me to be transferred to a less demanding position. For the sake of ‘preserving the family.’”
“That can’t be. You must have misunderstood something.”
“I understood everything perfectly, Pasha! Your mother is crossing every boundary. She barges into our life, into my career, criticizes me, imposes her rules in our home. And the worst thing is that you let her!”
Pasha sat down on the sofa and put his head in his hands.
“What do you want from me? She’s my mother.”
“And I am your wife! And our family is you and me, not your parents!”
They talked for a long time that evening. Katya told him about the offer to move to Nizhny Novgorod. Pasha took it badly. To him, leaving his parents felt almost like betrayal. They went to sleep in separate rooms, without reaching any decision.
The next day, Pasha went to his parents’ place to talk. For the first time, he felt the need to set things straight. His wife’s words would not leave his mind, and although it was hard for him to admit she was right, deep down he understood that the situation had gone too far.
His parents lived in the neighboring district, in the apartment where Pasha had grown up. Every corner was familiar and filled him with nostalgia. How difficult it was to argue with people who had created an entire world for you.
“Pashenka!” his mother rejoiced when she opened the door. “Alone? Where’s Katya?”
“At work. Mom, we need to talk.”
“Of course, son! Come in, I made pirozhki.”
In the living room, his father was reading a newspaper. Seeing his son, he put it aside.
“Hi, Pash. Did something happen?”
“Yes, Dad. We need to discuss your relationship with Katya.”
Zhanna Olegovna tensed.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Everything is wrong, Mom. You interfere in our life too much.”
“Interfere?” Zhanna Olegovna protested. “We help! We care! Is that a bad thing?”
“It’s not about help. It’s about respecting boundaries. You come without warning, criticize Katya, give unwanted advice…”
“What ingratitude,” his father muttered. “We do it from the heart.”
“I know, Dad. But you have to understand: Katya and I are adults. We decide for ourselves how to live.”
“And how have you decided?” his mother narrowed her eyes. “To work day and night? Eat God knows what? Forget family values?”
“What does that have to do with it? Katya is a wonderful wife. And she has the right to a career.”
“A career, a career!” Zhanna Olegovna threw up her hands. “And when will there be children? Or are you not planning any?”
“Mom, that is our business only.”
“Your business! You are my son! And I want grandchildren while I can still help take care of them!”
“Mom, listen. Katya received a job offer in Nizhny Novgorod…”
“What?!” Zhanna Olegovna jumped up. “And she agreed? Without discussing it with you?”
“With discussion. We talked about it yesterday.”
“And what did you tell her?” his father asked quietly.
“That I would think about it.”
“What is there to think about?” his mother exclaimed. “Of course not! Abandon your parents, your friends, your established life because of her ambitions? No, Pasha, I won’t allow it!”
“You won’t allow it?” Pasha felt a wave of indignation rise inside him. “Mom, I’m an adult. You can’t allow or forbid me anything.”
“I can! I’m your mother! And I can see that this girl has completely twisted your mind. Yura, tell him!”
His father sighed.
“Son, we only want what’s best. Moving is a serious step. Think carefully.”
“I am thinking, Dad. That’s exactly why I’m here. I want you to understand: if you continue treating Katya this way, we really may leave.”
“That’s blackmail!” Zhanna Olegovna cried.
“No, it’s a warning. I love you both, but I love Katya too. And I won’t let you hurt her anymore.”
“Hurt her?” Zhanna Olegovna theatrically pressed a hand to her chest. “Us? Hurt her? We adore her! We do everything to help!”
“Your help has turned into control, Mom. And if you don’t change your attitude, this will end badly.”
Pasha left his parents’ apartment with a heavy heart. The conversation had been unpleasant, and he doubted he had gotten through to them. Especially to his mother. On his way home, he thought about Katya’s words, about the possibility of moving. Maybe it really was a chance? To start from scratch, to build their own family without constant interference.
He didn’t even notice when he reached home. As he rode up in the elevator, Pasha made a decision: he would talk to Katya, and they would discuss all the options together. And whatever they chose, he would no longer allow his parents to interfere in their life.
The weekend began with an unexpected visit. Katya had just returned from an important work meeting — on Saturday morning, she had had to meet a potential premium client. When she opened the apartment door, she heard voices from the living room.
“…and this new stove is much better,” Zhanna Olegovna’s voice carried through the apartment. “It has more functions, and cooking on it is more convenient.”
“It must have been expensive,” Pasha replied.
“Nothing is too good for my beloved son!”
Katya entered the living room and froze. Pasha, Zhanna Olegovna, and Yuri Mironovich were sitting at the table. There were plates of food on the table that she definitely had not cooked. And in the corner of the room stood bulky boxes of some kind of appliance.
“Katenka!” Zhanna Olegovna exclaimed. “We’ve been waiting for you! Sit down and have breakfast.”
“What is going on?” Katya asked coldly, without moving from her spot. “And what are those boxes?”
“It’s our gift!” her mother-in-law announced happily. “A new stove for your kitchen. Much better than the one you have. And also a multicooker — a very convenient thing. You’ll cook lunch in it. And tomorrow the installers will come and put in the stove.”
Katya looked at her husband. Pasha sat there guiltily, not raising his eyes.
“Did you know about this?” she asked quietly.
“Mom called this morning. She said she wanted to make a surprise.”
“A surprise?” Katya felt everything inside her begin to boil. “Replacing appliances in my apartment without my knowledge is a surprise?”
“Why are you reacting like that?” Zhanna Olegovna asked in surprise. “We only wanted what was best! Your stove is completely old.”
“It’s new, Zhanna Olegovna. We bought it less than a year ago.”
“But this one is much more functional! With a timer, with programs.”
“It’s not about the stove,” Katya could barely restrain herself. “It’s about the fact that you came again without being invited, decided something for us again, and interfered in our life again!”
“Katya, please don’t start,” Pasha muttered.
That was the last straw.
“Don’t start?” Katya raised her voice. “Who started this? Who constantly comes without asking? Who criticizes my every move? Who calls my boss asking to transfer me to another position?”
“That was concern!” Zhanna Olegovna exclaimed. “You work too much! It’s harmful to your health!”
“My health is my business! My work is my business! My apartment is my business too! And I will no longer allow you to run things here!”
“Katya!” Pasha jumped up. “Stop it!”
“No, you stop it! Stop letting them give orders in our home! Stop staying silent when your mother insults me with her ‘advice’!”
“Insults?” Zhanna Olegovna clutched her heart. “Yura, did you hear that? I insult her with my concern!”
“Zhannochka, maybe we really shouldn’t have bought appliances without asking…” Yuri Mironovich said uncertainly.
“And now you’re against me too?” Zhanna Olegovna cried. “I wanted what was best! To help this ungrateful…”
“Enough!” Katya raised her voice so sharply that everyone fell silent. “You can demand lunch in your own home. Right now, all of you get up and leave my apartment!”
A deafening silence fell. Zhanna Olegovna turned pale, then red. Yuri Mironovich awkwardly rose from the table. Pasha stood there, looking from his wife to his parents.
“You’re throwing us out?” Zhanna Olegovna finally forced out.
“Yes,” Katya said firmly. “And take your gifts with you. We don’t need them.”
“Pasha!” Zhanna Olegovna turned to her son. “Are you going to allow her to speak to us like this?”
Pasha swallowed. This was the moment of truth. He looked at his parents, then at his wife. And finally, he made his choice.
“Mom, Dad,” he said quietly but firmly, “Katya is right. You interfere in our life too much. And now I’m asking you to leave.”
Zhanna Olegovna gasped as if she had been struck.
“You choose her? Against your own mother?”
“I choose our family, Mom. Our right to live the way we want.”
“Come on, Zhannochka,” Yuri Mironovich took his wife by the arm. “The children are right. We really… crossed the line.”
“What line?” Zhanna Olegovna yanked her arm away. “There can be no boundaries between parents and children! Pasha, come to your senses! This woman is turning you against us!”
“No, Mom,” Pasha shook his head. “You are the one trying to turn me against Katya. And I won’t allow it anymore.”
“Fine!” Zhanna Olegovna headed decisively toward the door. “We’ll see how you manage without our help!”
“We’ll manage,” Pasha answered calmly. “Goodbye, Mom. Dad, make sure no installers come tomorrow.”
When the door closed behind his parents, Katya and Pasha stood in silence for a long time. Finally, Pasha walked over to his wife and embraced her.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “You were right all along.”
The next week passed in tense anticipation. His parents didn’t call, and Pasha wasn’t rushing to restore contact either. He and Katya talked a lot about the future, discussing the offer to move to Nizhny Novgorod.
“Are you really ready to leave?” Katya asked one evening as they sat in the kitchen. “To leave your parents, your friends?”
“I’m ready to start a new chapter of our life,” Pasha replied. “And if that means leaving… well, I agree.”
“And what about your parents? Especially your mother. She’ll never forgive us for this ‘betrayal.’”
“Maybe in time she’ll understand. And if not…” Pasha sighed. “That’s her choice. I can’t keep allowing her to destroy our relationship.”
Two days later, Pasha still decided to call his father. The conversation was restrained but constructive.
“Is Mom still angry?” Pasha asked.
“Offended,” Yuri Mironovich answered evasively. “You know her character.”
“I do, Dad. But I can’t keep indulging her whims at the expense of my own family.”
“I understand, son. And to be honest, I partly agree with you. We really… went too far.”
“Thank you for understanding, Dad. By the way, Katya and I have made a decision.”
“What decision?”
“We’re moving to Nizhny. Katya was offered a good position at the bank’s new branch, and I’ve already found a job option there.”
There was a long silence on the line, then a heavy sigh.
“So you’re leaving. Should I tell your mother?”
“Tell her, of course. And tell her I’d like to meet before we leave. To talk.”
“I’ll tell her. But I can’t promise she’ll agree.”
They arranged to meet a week later. Pasha went to his parents alone — Katya preferred not to aggravate the situation with her presence.
Zhanna Olegovna greeted her son coldly. She had lost weight and looked drawn, but she held her back proudly and showed no emotion. Yuri Mironovich, on the contrary, was friendly and even tried to joke.
“So you’re leaving,” Zhanna Olegovna stated after a tense tea. “Abandoning your parents for the career of that… wife of yours.”
“Mom, don’t start,” Pasha said tiredly. “I didn’t come here to argue.”
“Then why? To say goodbye?” Bitterness sounded in Zhanna Olegovna’s voice. “Well then, goodbye. I hope you’ll be happy far away from us.”
“I hope I’ll be happy while still remaining your son, but also having the right to my own life,” Pasha answered calmly. “Mom, why can’t you just accept Katya? She’s a good person. And she loves me.”
“Loves you?” Zhanna Olegovna grimaced. “A loving woman wouldn’t tear her husband away from his family!”
“From his family? Mom, my family is Katya and me. You and Dad are my parents, and I love you, but I’ve grown up. Do you understand? I’m an adult.”
“Pashenka is right, Zhanna,” Yuri Mironovich unexpectedly intervened. “The boy has grown up. He has his own life. And we must respect that.”
Zhanna Olegovna pressed her lips together but said nothing.
“We’re moving in a month,” Pasha said. “And I would really like you to come see us off. Both of you.”
His mother turned toward the window and did not answer. His father nodded.
“We’ll come, son. We’ll definitely come.”
But on the day of departure, only Yuri Mironovich came to the station. He brought a box of homemade preserves and explained guiltily:
“Mom couldn’t come. Blood pressure… But she sends you this. And asked me to wish you luck.”
Pasha understood that it was a lie. His mother simply hadn’t wanted to come, hadn’t been able to step over her pride. He hugged his father, fighting the lump in his throat.
“Take care of yourself, Dad. And take care of Mom.”
“You take care of yourselves too,” Yuri Mironovich wiped his eyes discreetly. “Call the old folks sometimes.”
“We will.”
When the train began to move, Katya took her husband’s hand.
“Do you think she’ll ever forgive us?”
“I don’t know,” Pasha answered honestly. “But that’s her choice. And we made ours.”
Six months passed. Katya and Pasha settled in Nizhny Novgorod. A small but cozy apartment in a new building, new colleagues, new friends. Life gradually fell into place.
Pasha called his parents regularly. His father was always happy to talk, asking about their life and work. His mother usually refused to come to the phone, and if she did speak to her son, she was dry and formal, never mentioning Katya.
One evening, while Katya and Pasha were sitting on the balcony enjoying the warm summer air, Pasha’s phone beeped. A message from his father — a photo of their old house and a short text: “We miss you.”
“From your dad?” Katya asked, noticing the change in her husband’s face.
“Yes,” he showed her the photo. “He writes that they miss us.”
Katya looked thoughtfully at the picture.
“Do you think things will ever get better?” Pasha asked.
“I don’t know,” Katya answered honestly. “But we made the right choice. Sometimes you have to leave in order to preserve yourself.”
Pasha put his arm around his wife, and together they watched the sun set over the new city. The situation with his parents remained unresolved. His mother was still offended, still did not accept their choice, still did not acknowledge Katya. But for the first time in a long while, Pasha felt that he was living his own life — not the one his mother had planned for him, but the one he had chosen himself.
The phone signaled again. Another message from his father: “Mom asks what vegetables are like at your market. She says local ones are always better than imported ones.”
Pasha smiled. A small, almost invisible step. A tiny crack in the wall of alienation. Not reconciliation yet, but perhaps the beginning of a long road toward it.
“What is it?” Katya asked.
“Mom is interested in our vegetables,” Pasha showed her the message.
“Seriously?” Katya raised her eyebrows. “Maybe we should reply that we have excellent tomatoes and cucumbers? Send a photo from the market?”
“Let’s do that,” Pasha nodded. “It’s better than nothing.”
They looked at each other and smiled. Life went on. And even though complete reconciliation between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law never happened, they learned to live their own life, make their own choices, and defend their right to do so. And that, perhaps, was worth all the trials they had gone through
